Look Inside Your Chest

There’s no way of knowing where the days escape to. There’s no way of finding out, just what’s around the corner. Mysteries. Life and death, dancing arm in arm. A mosaic of dreams. Organic shells filled with sensation. Bearded man. Searching for something more. Lonely plague lover, wanting to see what lies behind those hidden doors. Reality is boredom. You should never accept what is given to you. Perception is much, much more, than what merely meets the eye. The fabric of what we are, teeming with the unknown. These days of discovery, the birth of our future.

Sat in the garden, I smoke a cigarette. Daylight fading, birds sing unseen. Nothing to fear, nothing to doubt. A slight chill in the air, my body shivers as the sound of night creeps slowly forwards. These moments are magic. They belong to no one else. These thoughts that burst through my mind. They’re mine and mine alone. The love in my heart, hers. This fire. The one that rages unseen. It consumes in awe of everything. Blood red lips and distorted reflections. Images unseen, my tongue works a wicked game. It tastes and declares. Hailed and glorious. Forever unwell, and yours to possess at will. Take me. Break me. Love and sex, never more than a fraction from our thoughts.

Slipping in and out. Drifting through time, oblivious to all but wonder. The scent of passion, somewhere in the moist air around me. It rains with romance. Silent and distilled. A storm consumes, and breathes life into tired ideals. Fleeting fragments. Only human after all. In the fireplace, a lovers face smiles among the flames. Belief and purpose. Pursue all answers. Always searching. Open yourself to secrets. Declare war on banality. Demand freedom from restraint. Stand up for the hunger in your soul. Take a deep breath, then step into another place and time. Remember the child within. Remember what it felt like to be fearless. That child’s still alive. Hear what I have to say, and do the right thing. Raise your hands up to the empty sky, and thank god you’re alive.

Within and without. The words remain the same. They never change, and nor do we. Not really.

Categories: Lucid

Tagged as: , , , , ,

2 replies »

  1. You did an excellent job with syntax. The fragmented sentences really help set the tone of the piece. The images are very strong, too. I really enjoyed reading this.

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